PRICE, 25 CENTS 



ROSA. 



THE QUEEN OF THE GARDEN 

AND HER 

PRETTY, LITTLE, RUSTIC 
MOTHER 

BY 

M. STOKER. 



A poem everj'^ llovver is. 

And every leaf a line; 
And with delicious memories 

They fill this heart of mine, * * 
O flowers of grace I bjess ye all 

By the dear faces ye be call. 

jtaines Russell Lorjell. 



NOV S8 ^898 



ROSA. 

THE QUEEN OF THE GARDEN 

AND HER 

PRETTY, LITTLE, RUSTIC 
MOTHER 

BY 

Mv-STOKER. 



I 



A p<jem ever}' f ovver is. 

And every leaf a line; 
And with delicious memories 

The}' fill this heart of mine, * * 
O flowers of g-race I bless ve all 

B3' the dear faces ye be call. 

jfcuues Russell lf^ozvt-/I. 



)l'\'i 



75 



19B78 



Cot^vricfht ,8oS /-(' .lA Siokrr. 




^_^.c^v--] 



\. a . .4k '^ tA <:i 



PREFACE. 

The first desig-n was to publish this 
small work in its three parts tog-ether — 
viz: Rosa, The Wild Rose, and. The Ar- 
tificial Rose — but after matured consid- 
eration, the author thoug-ht it better 
to publish the First and Second Parts, 
only, and see how the Public received 
them, before venturing- on the whole Work. 
So that it stands thus — If the Public show 
encourag-ing- appreciation of the present 
effort. The Artificial Rose may appear in 
due time. 



^> 



GosweetRosa! Isend thee smiling forth! — - 

Sing- thy Makers praises on the earth; 

Show to a world by sin benighted 

How by grace it may be lighted; 

Show thy God-given life — 

Free from care and strife — 

Canre from above; 

Shoot of Love 

With fair face 

Of Grace 

Heaven 

Given. 

Go, little Book! I send thee trembling forth! 
Speak a word to people of the earth; 
Show Earth owns not the brightest day- 
Better far is on the way; — 
Look ahead! Watch it come — 
Fathers welcome home. 
Where pleasures brim — 
To stay with Him. 
And — sever? 
No — never! 
Ever! 
Ever. 



ROSA. 



Ah! 3till depressed with dim and dew — but j'et 
a little while, and radiant with the deathless Rose, 
the wilderness shall smile.— Jo /iti Ruskiu. 



The Rose so sweet, all lov^e to meet; 

Both Name and Fragrance own a claim; 
Well mig-ht one ask — "Were it as sweet, 

If called by any other name?" 
Its blythesome Bloom — inviting-, fair — 

When but half-blown, still courts the g-aze; 
Its nascent Bud, with crimson hair 

Holds sweet attractions in its face. 
And, by the g-org-iousness of dress 

That fabled riches cannot buy 
It does the cynic prepossess, 

And wins the most fastidious eye. 
Its scent bedews the thirsty air — 

With frag-rance fumes the nasal sense; 
The richest and the poorest share 



Roi 



The virtues which it does dispense. 
Well may it win with w^ide consent, 

The appellation — "Queen of Flowers — '" 
So charming- from its first advent 

Till in the g"lory of its powers. 
But still there's something- more to see 

Than what in Name or Look appears; 
Or falling- frag-rance — full and free — 

That falls on all its presence nears: 
Its name is mellow — fine its face — 

Thoug-h frag-rance may attach the palm! 
But when sugg^estion turns to g-race 

Which to the soul indites a psalm 
That lifts the thoug-hts to revel hig-h 

And meditate upon its King-; 
To live awhile beyond the sky 

Then back to earth its g-lories bring- — 
Perfume must then take second place — 

For Heaven asserts the prior claim; 
All — all must now submit to Grace — 

The Frag-rance, Beauty and the Name. 
For if these beauties that we see 



Rosa. 7 

Be but in truth reflected thing-s — 
What must that sea of beauty be 

That down such g-race and splendor 
fling-s. 

11. 
Where ever seen we like the Rose — 

In g-arden — hot-house — wild on dikes; 
And all it leads us to suppose — 

Thoug-h some may differ in their likes. 
Some like it for its pretty looks, 

And others for its pleasant smell; 
We like it thus — more! as a book 

In which our Father's name we spell. 
Some like it for its crimson brow 

While others choose its fainter red; 
But these to us! come hinting- how 

God signals from its florid head. 
Then some may like its creamy hues, 

And some may prize its snowy white; 
We both admire! as each renews 

And deepens thoug:hts of purer lig-ht. 
Some like its varig-ated tints, 



8 Rosa, 

And some its petals own but one; 
We like them both, for both show points 

Of footsteps that before have gone. 
Some like it for its perfect leaves - 

And full-blown! for the space it fills; 
So we! for here, our faith perceives 

Perfection, as its Author wills. 
Still, some prefer its half-blown state; 

They think it speaks for longer life; 
Yet so uncertain! G, why wait 

For grace, when Death is rough and rife? 
All must admire its tiny Bud 

That slyly on its calix steals; 
And this reminds of Higher Good! — 

The hand that for the frailest feels. 

III. 
We've seen the Rose in perfect state; 

Behold it now in crippled age! 
Its leaves are falling, soon and late, 

'Tis passing through its final stage. 
It safely passed its Budding time. 

And passed the Bloom of riper age; 



Rosa. g 

It reached the utmost of its prime! — 

Is falling- now, as falls the sage. 
And, here, it gravely brings us home; — 

Asks — "What's the end of longest life? 
What do the zc/ses/, best become 

But victims of a common knife?" 
We've seen it in its half-blown form, 

And posing as a robust flower; 
We saw the blackness of a storm! — 

It passed away in one short hour — 
And, now, again! the thought comes home: 

"What are the strongest forms of life? 
The surest live?'! may become 

The victim of this common knife." 
We've seen it in its budding days 

Just as it opened into life; 
And seen it face the burning rays 

To fall a hero in the strife — 
In this we see the smiling babe 

On others cast its care of life; 
Life's smallest form of astrolabe 

Falls victim to this common knife. 



lo \Rosa. 

IV. 

We now observe the falling- leaves 

Of blossom, bud, and semi-bloom 
As each with other interweaves 

And all at last one level own. 
They speak a common Lang-uag-e all, — 

And certain end of all that's seen; 
The Buds, the Blooms, the Blossoms fall, 

And are as if they'd never been. 
In this we see a common Hithe 

Where intermix all human forms; 
All driven by the sweeping- scythe 

In one or other of the storms. 
Whatever made them once to differ 

There is no speck of difference now; 
Have all passed throug-h the same dark 
River — 

And level lies each pallid brow. 
V. 
These leaves emit a f rag-rance still 

That even Death does not destroy; 
It spreads to every corner fill — 



Rosa. II 

To all around a source of jo}^ 
And here another thoug-ht comes home, — 

"What shall our Dust and Ashes speak? 
Shall frag-rance come from out the tomb, 

Or deadly fumes from out it reek? 
Shall useful deeds the tale narrate 

Which by the living- may be read — 
Show virtue blooms in every state 

And speaks! although its owner's dead? 
Or shall the direr deads of death 

All g-ifted with the powers of speech 
Hold forth to taint the purer breath 

Which in its foulest forms may reach?'' 
The Evil speaks as well as Good — 

This matter Dust no more controlls; 
The man of God — of sin and blood — 

Is saving- still, or damming* souls. 

VL 

While decomposing by decay 

They seem to yield a sweeter scent; 

In perfume fret themselves awa}^ — 
Their atoms are for others spent. 



12 Rosa. 

And this a further thought may give — 

Though it may savor of a dream — 
The godly who have ceased to live 

Their atoms vie — ^as it would seem — 
To send a perfume wider far 

Than that attained by vocal sound; 
Though Death does liv-ing efforts bar 

The Good once done does more abound. 
And still this has another side — 

If we the Truth do not divert— 
The evil done does still abide! 

Nor any less itself assert; 
But fumes increase, in size and strength, 

Spread through the moral atmosphere; 
And seeming get indeed at length 

To threaten all the good that's here. 
VIT. 
And now we note the careful hand 

That leaf and leaflet, puts in place; 
The worthless — ^how it does disband — 

The worthy — softly in the vase. 
And still, once more, the thought comes 
home, 



Rosa. I J 

With plainer, clearer, strong-er force; 
"Where shall the Hand provide me room? 

What shall the Judg-ment Day endorse? 
Shall I be g-athered by the Hand 

And placed away from coming- grief? 
Or, shall I by a fell command 

Be driven like a blasted leaf?" 

VHI. 
Sweet Rose! sweet Emblem of pure love, 

Of innocence and moral g-ood; 
Sugg-estive of that from above 

That comes by way of Saving- Blood — 
Who ever was so pure as He 

Whose spotless life perfumes the world; 
Whose teach ing-s over land and sea 

The purest sentiments unfurled? 
We sometimes see the handsome Rose 

Consig-ned to face the seething- still— 
The victim, as it were, of foes, 

And forced to serve a g-reedy will- 
Robbed of its rich and pleasing- dress 

And driven to its final doom; — 



i/f. Rosa. 

Yet! in its death, does others bless — - 

It breathes its last in sweet perfume. 
And this reminds us of the One — 

That perfect One who died to save; 
"Who in His death did sin atone 

That all mig-ht free salvation have. 
Died not Himself to suit or bless; — 

For others sake He sunk and died; 
To clothe — perfume — with rig-hteousness 

This Heaven-born was crucified. 

IX 

Now, here's the Otto of the Rose! — 

The Essence bottled up with care, 
In waiting- to itself improve 

On all who would its sweetness share. 
And, this reminds us of our Lord 

Who stands before His Father's throne; 
The Essence of the Holy Word 

Whose rich annointing- all may own. 
The frag-rance from the courts above 

Spreads perfume over all the race; 
The Spirit through the Saviour's love 



Rosa. /J 

Abounds in offices of grace 
To disinfect the deadly fume; 

To drive away the stench of sin; 
To ease aside the hanging- doom, 

And bring a blessed prospect in. 
On high this Otto's stored with care, 

Safe in the Saints Eternal Rest; 
This Saving Essence all may share 

When with His perfect presence blest. 
For here the saints their Master know; 

Up there they'l feel His warm embrace; 
When done with earth, to Him they go, — 

Triumphant trophies of His grace. 

X. 

This sweet, compact, all lovely Rose 

Has lost its fabric, form and bloom; 
Yet in its death, and final throws 

Bequeaths its spoilers sweet perfume. 
The seething Fluid owns its presence; 

It breathes a fragrance on its crest, 
Then passes into sweet quiessence — 

It never did nor will molest. 



1 6 Rosa. 

Its lovely Otto, sent away, 

Has entered on its own estate; — 
But, still a lino-ering- love does stay 

To languid senses 'vig-erate; 
We have the sweet Rose-water left 

To lend its fragrance to the nose; 
Thoug-h, of the Rose itself bereft! — 

We have the comfort of the Rose. 
And, oh! how^ much this does remind 

Of Him whose life and death was spent 
That He might leave for foes behind 

The fragrance of the sweetest scent. 
No malace at His death was found; 

No bitterness against His foes; 
In death as in His life abound 

The virtues of the Perfect Rose. 
While in the midst of seething heat 

And forced about from place to place 
He was but seeking to complete 

The blessed plan of saving grace. 
In kindly, words and loving ways 

He w^ould the seething w^orld perfume; 



Rosa. ij 

And left behind the scented rays 

That perfumes death andlig-hts the tomb. 
XL 
The careless crowd but littJe know 

While sinning- on with bated breath 
How much to Jesus Christ they owe 

For blessing-s coming- throug-h His death. 
Blessing-s a sinful race possess 

Which oug-ht to lead to God above 
Author of Truth and rig-hteousness, 

And origin of Saving- love. 
All that is lovel}^ to behold — 

All that is rig-ht on earth we know, 
His zvisdoni did it all unfold, 

His death did all on us bestow. 

XH. 
And then ag-ain, this lonesome Rose 

So clean and sweet to look upon. 
In other wavs it never chose 

Is made to wilt and look beg-one. 
How often is this flower placed 

Where foul contaminations lurk 



t8 Rosa. 

Till loveliness is all defaced 

And fragrance fails to do its work? 
Is taken from its place of rest, 

Where many see and much admire; 
And where it looks its very best 

In g-raceful form and rich attire; 
Is rudely from position torn — 

And forced into position mean 
Just that it may be vainly worn, 

Or brig^hten up a doubtful scene. 
In meanest places made to go\ 

To don the dance — ^pay court to song- 
Till all its g-lory and its show 

Fall victims to the seeming- wrong-. 
And does this not ag-ain remind 

Of human Roses, brig-ht and fair, 
The choicest often of their kind 

Which do a like transition share. 
For oh! how oft a virg-in Rose 

All g-uileless in her lovely smiles, 
That would not wrong- herself suppose 

Nor dream of others usinof wiles, 



Rosa, ig 

Hiis by degrees become bereft 

Of all her g-race and sweet perfume 
And in the end but meanly left 

To grapple with her downward doom? 
How many tales there could be told 

Of Roses sweet as ever bloomed 
That in the gutter has been rolled 

And down to deepest folly doomed; 
To live to lives of others foil^ — 

To fell destruction others win; 
With vice and shame their own despoil 

And court a living death by sin. 
How often too a noble youth 

Seduced by cunning, sinful wile; 
Led by impertinent untruth 

Till ruin ends a luring- smile; — 
With life and fortune wrecked and lost, 

And stranded like a broken ship 
To find how dreadful is the cost 

When harlots do their victims strip. 
Not only is the money gone. 

But something- money cannot buy; 



20 Rosa. 

The character he rests upon 

Which leaves unlit to live or die. 
He then in turn becomes a bane 

To leaven up corrupt desire; 
To further deepen sin's vile stain 

And spread abroad unholy fire. 
Thus, so doth seething- sin outspread 

And parmiate a wanton race, 
Till Death and Hell possess no dread 

But Wanton Sin will dare to face. 

xm. 

And then again, we see the Rose 

Hurled from its native home, so fair; 
Torn from its sweet, select repose — 

With bitter herbs its future share; 
Sometimes as servant to the sick, — 

Sometimes with fickle friends to roam; 
Sometimes a smile — sometimes a kick! — 

But never more returns to home. 
And this seems to remind us, too. 

How often circumstances change; 
How often have the well-to-do 



Rosa. 21 

With meanest thing-sthemselves arrange; 
And, just a pittance can obtain 

To soul and body hold tog-ether; 
Must bear the loss — the mental pain — 

And face the World's cold wind and 
weather. 
Hurled from selections' social height 

Into a rude and mottly crowd; 
With choicest prospects disunite 

To live beneath a rhnless cloud. 
And thus they live and end their days, 

And often fill a pauper's tomb; 
Stay here, or there, — or any place!^ — ■ 

But never more! return to home. 
If from this depth they cannot see 

The g-uiding Hand, thats all in all,^ 
And, prospect in Eternity! — 

They've dreadful losers by the/^///. 
But if th^ fall but bring- around 

A nearness to their God and King-, 
They shall in hig-her joys abound 

Than any earthly riches bring-. 



22 Rosa. 

XIV. 

How blessed is the pleasing- fact 

That to the vilest grace abounds; 
For all the sinful ways men act, — 

Yet mercy throug-h God's love redounds. 
It was for si)nic?'s Jesus died,— 

And, sinners He invites to come; 
Was for the vilest crucified — 

For meanest hlood-zuashed makes a home. 
The lowest may be raised and saved, 

The foulest free sweet cleansing- know; 
Relinquish sin — be rig-ht-behaved, 

Let throug-h the life God's g-oodness flow-- 
Then all the past is ever g'one, — 

Behind His back forever cast! 
While Christ, the Truth, is rested on 

How can sin any long-er last. 
For life, or death, all now is right; 

Peace, joy, and comfort, fill the soul; 
Earth's journey brig-ht with Heaven's lig-ht- 

The Holy Spirit in control. 



Rosa, 2j 

XV. 

God knows His own! In every case 

He watches over them with care; 
Bestows the all-sufficient grace, — 

In every trouble takes His share. 
He knows their hopes — forecasts their 
fears, 

And marks each step along- the wav; 
He knows, the time to wipe the tears! — 

Just when to brighten up the day. 
He sees the chilly hand of Death 

As it comes stealing for its prey; 
The moment that it stops the breath, 

And turns the living form to clay. 
He knows each hillock made of dust, 

And whether it conceal a Rose, 
Or but formation of a crust 

That hides! — God but himself but knows. 
He knows each distinct blade of grass 

That grows to shade the righteous dust 
From what conceals the putrid mass 

That died the victim of its lust. 



2^ Rosa. 

Knows well the purer dust of Rose; 

Its very atoms all are told; 
Unlike the chaffy dust that blows! — 

'Tis of the dust of purest g"old. 
We write the g-lowing- Epitaph 

That speaks the virtues of the Rose, 
When well we know% it was but chaff! 

Of which we really did dispose; 
That were the Truth allowed to speak, 

And facts assume a rig^htful place, 
A stench would come from out the leak 

No Eleg-}" would dare to face. 
And Tablets stand in sacred walls 

To publish Goodness — hue and cry- 
But oft' we find One loudly bawls — 

''A most unwarrantable lie!" 
But looking- to the Hig-her Home, — 

That hio-h, eternal, saints delig-ht, — 
The christian overlooks the iomh 

With such a prospect, full in sight. 
God's saints are perfumed by His Truth, 

And follow up the source of scent; 



Rosa. 2^ 

The gracious words from out His mouth, 

Are comforting* as they were meant. 
Long-ing- and waiting for the Rest — 

The rest that does for them remain; 
All satisfied — as if possessed^ — 

They shall this Blessed Rest obtain. 
They value not the epitaph, — 

With Earth's uncircumcised to vie; 
The World may count them wheat or 
chaff— 

They count themselves with Him onhig-h. 
They live not for the toys of time — 

Earth's honors! as to life or death; 
But honors g^reater — more sublime! 

Are hang-ing- on their final breath. 
The g"lory of their upper home 

Reflects its lustre on the soul; 
The mansion in their Father's dome 

Grows brig-hter with the nearing g-oal. 
O come Thou Fount of every blessing-! 

More with Thyself surcharg-e each spirit 
With love returning- — effervesing-! 

Mav all forever own Thy merit. 



26 Rosa. 



We've viewed this noble Rose apace— 
And, doubtless much these notes omit; 

Two others now request a place — 
The Wild One and the Counterfeit. 



The wild-rose, 



Hail! to that pretty, little Rose 

That fills a common way-side place 

And beaming- — as she sweetly blows, 
Her lovely lessons, as to grace. 

So sweet and quiet, chaste and fair. 
And winning to the eye and mind; 

Her fragrance fills the balmy air — 
She floats her perfume on the wind. 

Though little, common, rustic, wild, 
And seldom or but little known 

The one just seen is but her child — 
Though Education lends her tone; 

She's had her training — been at school- 
Has got her better dress and style; 

She has improved by care and rule, 
And now she wears a broader smile. 

Has mingled with the busy crowd; 
Her social circle has been great; 



28 Rosa. 

With this she seems to look so proud! — 
Her humble parent would berate. 

But is she sweeter in her look? 

Or does she wear a sweeter smile 

Than that brlg-ht mother in the nook 

That's humbly stayed at home the while? 
Just here we may a thought derive; 

And take this lesson as we g-o 
How parents oft a lifetim.e strive 

Toon their children g-ood bestow; 
To raise them to a higher place 

Where they can feed from bettershelves, 
And often in most anxious ways 

To this accomplish, sink themselves; 
Oft make the contrast so immense 

Their children in their pride look down- 
Consider of no consequence, 

And on their social standing frown. 
Forget the pit from which they came!- — • 

Dug out by parents tireless spade, 
With all they know, they know no shame — 



Rosa. 2g 

Thoug-h shame deep stamps their com- 
mon grade. 
Disgrace attend such ill return! — 

Hig"h Heaven does endorse the same! — 
Let burning- shame their spirits burn 

Till rightness move such cursed blame. 

II. 
We love that little rustic Rose 

Which on her prickles calmly rests; — 
That on the humble birds, bestows 

Her fragrance, while they build their 
nests. 
She shows our lives may frag-rance give 

And spread an influence others need; 
Throug-h prickly persecution live, 

And calmly with our work proceed. 
Reminds us of that Rose so fair 

Whose petals op'ed on Sharon's plain; 
That spread a fragrance, wide as air, 

And poured it like diffusive rain. 
It bloomed that others might be blessed — 

But was by others rudely bruised; 



JO Rosa. 

The rougher \i became compressed! — 
The fragrance more and more suffused. 

III. 
Just see those smiles when friends have 
come — 

The Butterfly and Bumblebee; 
The harmless flirting- — bum and hum — 

Then flying off in cherished g-lee. 
Her friend the workman comes along- 

With all his fusy airs and skips; 
He hums a little pleasing song". — 

And steals the sweetness from her lips. 
And this a lesson would sug-g-est 

Which many would do well to heed, 
That younger people may be blest 

By kindness both in word and deed. 
*'When little children are around — 

Be kind to them" it seems to say; 
'*To treat them mean, blush to be found, 

While they indulge in harmless play." 
It seems to ask in doubtful speach. 

And measured accents' tardy drips; — 



Rosa. JT 

'*When children come within your reach, — 
Do they find sweetness on you)' lips?" 

IV. 
How lovely this sug-g"estive Rose — 

How much from her small life we learn; 
So much to emulate she shows 

If we could rig-htly but discern. 
It would our life with g-ood endow, 

Our peace would as a river flow; 
Would show the happy secret how 

We could in every virtue g-row — 
Think, if we find her in her tears 

The pleasing- smile still plays around; 
In seeming- g-rief her sweetness cheers, 

Which by the strang-er may be found. 
How like her Maker, in His love — 

His rain falls on the bad and g-ood; 
On both his sun shines from above, 

And both are fed with His kind food. 
And does this not a thoug-ht convey^ — 

Choice lesson for our daily walk — 
To ever hold a kindly way, — 



^2 Rosa. 

A kindly hand — a kindly talk; 
And, even when in pressing- grief, 

When trouble weig-hs and sorrow pains 
That we may never seek relief 

But in what Christ-like g^race maintains. 
Not vent on others bitter spleen, 

And in an ang-ry mood proclaim; 
They may not know just what we mean^ 

But feel the hurting- just the same. 
'Tis sad — yea! even sad indeed! 

That christians in the furnace tried, 
So ill in many ways proceed — 

No g-race perfumes their bed beside. 
They twist, and twine, aud trouble shed, 

While all within themselves repine; 
We ask! what means that Furnace-bed? 

Can it a christian such refine? 
Sad case of Grace — ^refinement, this! — 

Dross can but take a strong-er hold; 
The Son deig-ns not with such to kiss; 

Has no place for them in His fold — 
The World observes their dearth of g-race; 



Rosa. 33 

It often there produces grief; 
Attendents hate to near the place, 
And brand th^ir faith as mock belief. 

What speaks so much as painful-calm 

As it appeals to feeling- eyes? 
That resig-nation, when a qualm 

Its further sickly hand applies? 
It seems to say — "God's will be done! 

His w^ill in all thing-s I prefer; 
In all my pain, I see the Son; 

He loves me, still! why, should I care? 
I feel this furnace is to fine. 

And fit me for a better life; 
To more to good my heart incline; — 

To lesson care in worldly strife. 
And as my body weaker g-rows. 

My soul g-rows strong-er with His g-race; 
My faith, so settled, — sweetly knows 

That I shall soon behold his face. 
I see my mansion in the skies. 

Just as He said he would prepare; 
Triumphant! I shall take the prize, 



J/ Rosa. 

With His 'well done' apportioned there. 

And should He in His love upraise — ■ 

The tennor of my life extend, 
What can I do but further praise, — 

And all my ransomed powers bend 
To spread abroad His gracious name, 

And tell how good and kind He is; 
That others may accept the same 

And learn this joy and comfort His." 
V. 
This little lovely Rose, so sweet, 

Enjoys a life of floral bliss; 
Old Sol stoops down with warmth to greet, 

And on her petals leaves a kiss; 
And she responds with lovesome smile — - 

She beams her beauty in his face; 
And kind environment the while 

But only seeks to aid her grace. 
Contentment is her shibboleth 

She has the fount of life within; 
She travels by a lowlv path. 

And there she does her conquests win. 



Rosa. 33 

Is satisfied with simple fare; 

No thirsting- for what others hold; 
No trouble, toil, nor anxious care 
Nor morbid hunger after gold. 
Yet! she is gay, and sweet, and clean; 

Has all her little life requires; 
Lives for the most in peace serene — 
And honors Him her life inspires. 
She envies not her high relations. 

Who may be greater, richer, too; 
She troubles not with others stations — 

It is with God she has to do. 
And whether in her infant days 

She may be torn by some rough blast,— 
Or live to tender rich displays 

With sturdy trials in the past, 
Or live to see perfection's age 

Before she kiss the verdent sod — 
She is the same in every stage; 

She lives in God, and dies in God. 
She is Gods creature — made by Him; 
Her life has purpose, like our own; 



j6 Rosa, 

And as she sits, so sweet and prim, 
Obeys her Maker on the throne. 

Gives g'lory to the Lord supreme; 
Acts as His lawful mandates bid; 

At one with that unwritten scheme, 
And Him in whom her life is hid. 

And, here, a lesson comes along- 

From which but fools would dare to 
drift— 
"The battle is not to the strong"! — 

The race not always to the swift." 
But those who trust to God's g-ood g-race, 

And lean not on uncertain thing's; 
Stake all their life on what He says. 

And to the issue that it bring-s, 
May safely rest — if oug-ht be sure — 

His Word is g-ood for all it claims; 
Their present, future, is secure, 

And all the blessing- that it names. 
Besides, there does a curse attach 

To him who makes 7ne7'e flesh his stay; 
He soon must more than meet his match. 



Rosa, J 7 

And fall a victim to dismay. 
With stroug- reproof the lesson comes 

To check a foolish, futile worry; 
Asks, why some entertain wh^t dooms 

The soul to always feeling- sorry — 
And that without one comfort bring-ing* 

To calm the undulating- breast, — 
But ever doleful dirg'es sing-ing- 

To sink it deeper in unrest? 
It, also, bringfs a lovesome lay, 

And bears along- a cheery charm; 
Does to the sad^ in kindness say, — 

*'Good fellow! do thyself no harm;" 
For God, but only means thy good. 

Intends thy truest happiness; 
To clothe, and feed with proper food. 

And save thee from unwise distress. 
Observe the fowls — -what care they for? 

They sow not, neither do they reap; 
Nor gather into barn or store! — 

Yet, God, the little creatures keep. 
And note the lilies — ^How they grow!^ 



j8 Rosa. 

They toll not, neither do they spin; 
Yet, see that superb, g-orgious show! — 

What art can such perfection win? 
No beaut}^ known to fabled story, 

That wildest fancy paints to please — 
Nor Solomon in all his g'lory 

Was ever dressed like one of these. 
Wherefore if <^od so clothe the g-rass — 

With life so transcient — of the field; 
Here to-day! to-morrow — alas! 

Does to the burning oven yield — 
How much more does He grant supplies 

To them who trust to what He saith? 
The trusting soul He satisfies! — 

Know that! "O ye of little faith." 
And what's the use of all your thought? 

How ill repaid is all your care; 
What do you find of all that's sought 

Beyond a common daily fare? 
Three meals a day is all you need — 

The plainer better for your health; — 
Can God not manage this indeed! — 



Without your worry after wealth? 
Or even after nearer things — 

The daily things that dog the life; — 
God through the saddest troubles brings 

A peace that octracises strife. 
But calmly rest upon His word; 

Be truly thankful for your fare; 
Lay all your care upon the Lord, 

And tell Him, you are done with care! 
In exchange comes a perfect peace, 

And joy that leaves the world outside; 
A conscious, clear, and sure release 

From ail that can with harm betide. 

VI. 

Now, who could think a ruthless hand 

Would seize that little harmless Rose; 
By force of strength its future strand 

And of its lovesome life dispose? 
But, see! that rustic swain appear 

With busy eye that lacks control; 
He takes it off, in spite of tear. 

To grace his clownish buttonhole; 



40 



Rosa, 



And forces from its parent home 

And all its native purity 
To g-o wherever he may roam 

And share a mean futurity. 
Or when his fickle mind may chang-e — 

Which from its nature often must, — 
To g-o adrift alone, to range! 

Or else be trampled in the dust. 
And this a dreadful notion lends! 

Reminds us how some yield to strength 
Which oft abuses, then, amends! 

By casting far adrift, at length; 
First baiting with angelic smiles 

That might an angel onward beck, — 
Then outvie demons in mean wiles. 

To purest forms of nature wreck. 
To worse than do a killing crime 

Which lawless passion prompts apace, — 
And still expect their names to rime. 

With those who act in prudent ways 
Who will a Social brand devise 

With which to mark the biped-snake? 



Rosa. 41 

When will the prudent ostracise 

The more than half suspected Rake? 
VII. 
And what about that lonely Rose? 

That human e3^es have never seen; 
That dies in desert where it blows 

And drops its ashes on the g-reen? 
Are there no eyes that see it there — 

None to observe its quaint display? 
Nay! ang-els sip the nectar rare! — 

They kiss its little life away. 
And, so, we see that little Dot, 

That's barely breathed of earthly air, 
Refusing- this sublunar lot 

That it may with the ang-els fare. 
We really have not seen the Rose — 

The pearl within that sweetly lav; 
The ang-els watched its leaves disclose 

And kissed the little life awa}^. 
VIII. 
And, thus, we find the unique Rose 

All rounded by its Gifts and Graces; 



^2 Rosa. 

But he, alone, who lofty g-oes 

Can comprehend its noblest phases. 
How sad, indeed, it is for those 

Who never hig-her thing's explore — 
Their eyes behold a pretty Rose! 

That covers all — they see no more. 
And surely it is sadder still, 

If oug-ht the other can enhance — 
Is he that dares Almig-hty will! — 

And calls it but a thing- of chance. 
Oh that the higher sense may fall 

And through the Darkness, Light dis- 
close 
To all the Saviour, all in all, — 

And seen in thorn as well as Rose. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




